


These wounds, they will not heal

by whoami



Series: Maybe we'll turn it all around [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: All the Avengers need a hug, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Lives, Lots of dialogue, M/M, No Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pseudo-Incest, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, They All Needed to Talk, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, fuck you Thanos, probably, rocket raccoon needs a hug, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoami/pseuds/whoami
Summary: AVENGERS INFINITY WAR SPOILERS!!He crosses his arms, then, apparently steeling himself for what comes next and Loki feels dread deep in his stomach even before the words are out of the man’s mouth. “He has to go. We don’t trust him and we have already lost enough. I won’t lose anyone else.”He can control his demeanor well enough to just grit his teeth against the words he’s sure are about to come out from his brother’s lips:Maybe it’s best if you go for now, Loki. They’ll come around but you can’t blame them for needing a little time. You’ll win their trust, eventually.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again! I was overwhelmed and incredibly grateful for all the comments and kudos on my last story, it really motivated me in writing this!  
> So, just fyi:  
> \- This story is placed a week after the snap (I assumed the Avengers stayed in Wakanda for a while, recovering themselves and trying to help)  
> \- I have no idea how Stormbreaker is supposed to work, so I made my own interpretation on the matter  
> \- They are all justifiably angry and trying desperately to repress their feelings of grief about what happened, so tension is high and they are all very serious, I hope they don't seem too OOC because of that  
> I think that's all for now, I'll leave you to it!  
> Lots of love,
> 
> whoami

Of course, reality isn’t nearly as sweet as their little cocoon of warmth.

The minutes spent entangled close together in Thor’s bed are merely the calm before the storm, and Loki can feel on his tongue the tension that precedes the crash of thunder even more clearly than the night before, when his brother made the Midgardian sky mourn with him.

There’s a conflict ahead of them, one that promises to be explosive and he is the cause of it. In the past, that would only be one more reason to flee, let things cool down – because, even if his actions may be seen as ambiguous at best in that regard, Loki doesn’t _actually_ have a death wish – without his presence to aggravate the situation, but now he’s trying to do something different, something he hasn’t done for so long that he’s not even sure if he is still capable of it.

He’s trying to keep his word to Thor.

A vow was made between them, among endless rows of unfamiliar stars, after a long overdue hug and before everything turned to ashes once more. A vow to stand together against still faceless foes, to protect Asgard’s last legacy and to rebuild something valuable that was broken and twisted by centuries of lies: both an empire of gold and a relationship that once was as solid as the roots of Yggdrasil itself.

So they dress themselves in silence, occasionally glancing at each other or touching just the tiniest bit longer, trying to prolong the last few moments of unadulterated peace. But eventually there’s really no more excuse to not step out of the room and go face Thor’s companions. The ones who think Loki is dead and that have no reason whatsoever to trust him.

“To battle, then,” Loki says, trying to mask the nervous twist of his stomach at the thought of how many things in the next few minutes could go terribly wrong.

He hasn’t fooled his brother, who puts a hand on his shoulder and, with an incredibly earnest gaze, replies: “Whatever happens, I’m on your side, Loki.”

They’re words he has heard before and he really wishes he could believe them. He knows that voicing his doubts would only postpone the inevitable, so Loki just nods with a weak smile, then he lets Thor exit first, following a couple of steps behind.

When the door slides open, he can already hear the voices of the remaining Avengers and his heartbeat quickens just a little. He’s not afraid of them nor does he need or want their approval in any way, but he’s genuinely concerned about the strain it would put on his and Thor’s healing relationship if they forced his brother to make a choice. He has already been through this one time before and he’s not particularly looking forward to repeat the experience.

They reach the main area, where they find five figures all around a big, round table. The expressions on their faces vary from weariness to frustration, and even in their hushed voices, Loki can hear a hint of repressed fury just waiting for a convenient target.

His presence here is really what the humans would call the perfect storm.

He has the time to notice that three of them are standing close together, discussing something about several files spread out in front of them. He recognizes the Captain and the Widow but he doesn’t remember the dark-skinned man from his first time on Midgard. On two chairs besides one another, there are Bruce and a strange animal that appears to be some sort of rodent.

That’s all he can really observe before they finally lift their heads to greet Thor and, instead, they freeze for one, long second. Then, all Hell breaks loose.

Behind his brother’s protective stance, Loki can categorize their reactions with detached and fascinated curiosity: the most violent is the Captain’s, who immediately draws out his shield – a different one from the blue, red and white he remembers – yelling an aggravated: “What’s going on?” while quickly moving towards them. He has such suspicion in his eyes that Loki can’t help wondering if he believes Thor to be under some sort of spell. Honestly, if that’s the case, he can’t really blame the man.

The Widow is complementing the Captain movements, circling the table on the opposite direction from him and ending up in front of them by the man’s side. She doesn’t speak but he can see her eyes observing them from head to toe, swiftly taking inventory of eventual weapons or advantages they could have in battle. She has undoubtedly already seen that Thor didn’t take Stormbreaker with him. Her stance appears relaxed but she has one hand behind her back, in all likelihood holding a gun, should it be needed for a swift counterattack.

The rat-like person seems alarmed, if that’s even possible, shouting: “What the hell is going on?” even as he retrieves from Norns-know-where a rifle of alien manufacture, taking aim at Loki and his brother.

The other man is tense but hasn’t moved nor spoke and Banner, the only one left in his chair, has a confused frown on his face.

All in all, it could have definitely been worse, since no one has, in fact, shot him on sight. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibilities when Thor convinced him to work alongside him and his allies.

It’s him, hands up in a placating gesture, who speaks next: “Friends, Loki means no harm to any of you. He’s here to help.”

The Captain scoffs, not dropping the defensive stance, and it’s an ugly sound that seems really out-of-character for him. “Help?! The last thing Earth needs, right now, is your brother’s _help.”_ He spits the word like it’s poisonous, more of a snarl than anything else. “Or did you forget what happened the last time he was here?”

“I didn’t, Steven, how could I? But that was a different Loki!”

The rest of them have apparently decided to leave this particular conversation to their leader because it’s still him that answers: “He seems about the same, to me.” His eyes are cold when they shift from Thor’s gaze to his.

Loki grits his teeth to not reply with one of the hundreds cutting retorts he has on the tip of his tongue – he and his brother have decided together that it’s best for Thor to do the talking – even if it makes him bristle. He gazes back at him, though, and grins. The man’s frown deepens.

“Steven,” Thor calls him, and the Captain reluctantly breaks the stare first. His tone is pleading, now. “I swear to you, Loki has proven his good will. He sacrificed his own life to protect me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve replies, sarcastically. “His life? That’s good to hear, but see, he doesn’t give the impression of being very dead right now.”

Thor sighs. “I know, but that doesn’t mean…”

“It means that he tricked you, Thor! He _always_ does, you told us yourself of multiple times he did just that and then betrayed you!”

That’s fair, Loki knows that, but he can’t help to feel the sting of it, imagining his brother narrating tales of treasons to his teammates, most likely while drinking together after a victorious fight. They all surely commiserated with him for having such a vexing, backstabbing double-crosser as a sibling…

Thor’s voice is frustrated as he answers: “I did, but this time it’s _different…”_

“Sure, after one thousand years of deception, this time is different!” There’s open scorn in the Captain’s tone and Loki can feel Thor’s anger rise. Ignored by the man still too focused on his brother, but acutely aware of the Widow’s gaze on him, Loki reaches with one hand to touch Thor’s back, between his shoulder blades, rubbing the spot just a little. _Don’t let him provoke you into a fight,_ he’s trying to communicate.

Thor relaxes minutely under his fingers and takes a deep breath, before replying: “I understand why you can’t believe that on my word alone. What would you require to give my brother a chance?”

Steve relaxes, too, just a bit. His expression drops, a deep fatigue overtaking the bitterness and rage. “I don’t know if there even is anything, Thor. Especially right now… Things are complicated enough as they are.” He crosses his arms, then, apparently steeling himself for what comes next and Loki feels dread deep in his stomach even before the words are out of the man’s mouth. “He has to go. We don’t trust him and we have already lost enough. I won’t lose anyone else.”

He sees his brother’s shoulders droop in defeat and he nods gravely, saying: “Very well,” before turning his head to lock eyes with Loki.

Suddenly, he’s back on Asgard, not even five hundred years old, waiting in a stinky tavern for judgment from his brother’s friends after a particular cruel prank. He feels himself gulp at their grim, unforgiving expressions, understanding the sentence before Thor even speaks.

He’s much older now and doesn’t have to drop his head to mask the pain and the tears. He can control his demeanor well enough to just grit his teeth against the words he’s sure are about to come out from his brother’s lips; he’ll feel them burn only inside his heart and not on his pale cheeks.

_Maybe it’s best if you go for now, Loki. They’ll come around but you can’t blame them for needing a little time. You’ll win back their trust, eventually._

Except Loki never did. And in the end, it was him and Thor that had drifted apart for it, for the chiasm that was opened that day between himself and Sif and the Warriors Three. He wonders, should he flick his eyes in their direction, if he’ll see Fandral instead of Banner or Hogun instead of the Captain.

But his eyes are locked on Thor’s own and he has to refocus on the conversation because Thor is talking, but the words are different from last time. It’s clear he’s still speaking to the Captain, even if he’s looking at Loki.

“In that case, we’ll go and find ourselves a different housing,” he speaks very clearly and plainly, not leaving room for any misunderstanding. “I’m not withdrawing my help in bringing our friends back and defeating Thanos, I want to destroy him as much as you do. But I won’t do it without Loki, that’s out of question, so we’ll figure out another way to collaborate and reach that goal.”

Loki can see the pain those words cause Thor but he can also see his absolute determination and he feels both completely relieved and absolutely devastated. This decision will either be their undoing or make their bond stronger than ever and Loki is not looking forward to find out which one. After all, his track record in these matters is not the most brilliant and it always ends with him defeated, alone and possibly in chains.

Why would Thor risk losing his last friends over it? Over _him_?

Steve is obviously asking himself a similar question, too stunned to reply. Apparently, it’s as good of an opening as any for the rodent, who declares: “I’ll go with him. No offence, but you guys are not my friends, our only real link is Thor.”

Thor finally stops looking at him – he doesn’t know what he saw in his eyes, but it’s clearly good enough, for now – to nod at the animal, just in time for the Captain to find his words again. “Thor… You would… He’s not… You can’t just…” he splutters, a deep frown on his face. Loki’s not sure if it’s rage or indignation that’s robbing him of his ability to form coherent sentences, but he secretly finds it very amusing.

In the end, Steve sighs deeply in frustration, closing his eyes, and then he says: “I don’t understand, Thor. You can’t leave, we need you now more than ever before! What if we are attacked and don’t have the time to call you?”

Thor resolutely shakes his head. “It’s either this or you let Loki stay. I won’t let him go, Steven, not without me, not again.”

The Captain clenches his fists, going tense all over again, then almost yells: “It wouldn’t work, Thor! We don’t trust him, you can’t ask us that.”

“I’m not asking you to trust him, but trust _me_ ,” his brother replies and he has a tone so desperately pleading, he’s practically begging. Begging _for him_. It’s so strange to see that it leaves something like an itch all over Loki’s skin.

He honestly doesn’t know what else Thor could say if this won’t sway the Captain, either, and he dreads to find out. Luckily for him, Steve hesitates and someone else replies, for the first time since this whole ordeal has started.

He’s shocked to realize that it’s Bruce Banner.

“I do trust Thor,” he repeats with a shrug, in the following silence. He seems uncomfortable with all the attention on himself, but he meets head on Steve’s disbelieving gaze and Thor’s grateful one.

“Me, too,” the rodent chimes in, again. He has long since lowered his weapon and he’s now leaning casually on it. “The guy was willing to get roasted by a star to stop Thanos. He wouldn’t let an enemy in.”

Loki makes a mental note to ask his brother about that, later, while Steve asks: “Bruce? You remember New York, don’t you?” He seems mostly confused by this turn of events.

Banner shrugs again. “Of course I do, Cap, but look… Through Hulk’s eyes, I saw Loki help without getting anything in return for himself. I saw him unable to watch Thor getting hurt. I don’t know what happened after, but I’m pretty sure that, at least as long as his brother is concerned, he’s not the same guy that attacked New York.”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?! He used to _work_ for Thanos!” The Captain seems just about ready to pull his hair out or punch someone.

Thor chooses that moment to intervene again: “That’s exactly why he can be useful. He has information about him that we don’t, that we can’t know any other way.”

Bruce nods, his eyes still on Steve. “It’s not okay, Steve, but we’re not really in the position of refusing any help, right now.”

The Captain is obviously conflicted now; mistrust plain to see in his expression battling with the words of his friends.

“Natasha?” he sighs after a moment, shaking his head. “What do you think?”

The Widow is still studying Loki closely, hasn’t done anything else since the whole confrontation began. It’s unnerving but he’s never been one to be intimidated, especially not now that they may actually be going somewhere. She seems to find whatever she was searching for because she finally turns towards Steve and says: “He can be an asset. We don’t have to trust him for that.”

Steve is clearly unhappy about this but, being outnumbered, he faces the last man in the room and says: “Colonel Rhodes, in the absence of Tony, the compound is under your responsibility. Can Loki stay?”

Loki has to close his fists at that, itching to tell the human just what he thinks about being spoken of as if he is a stray dog found on the street. He still keeps silent, though, watching as the Colonel frowns, maybe not really sure about where to stand on this. It’s a pretty big decision for someone who wasn’t even there during the New York disaster.

“I trust your judgment, Captain, but I also listened to the others and I believe they made a pretty compelling argument. He can stay.”

They exchange nods and, in the end, Steve refocuses his attention on him. He’s much calmer than before when he asks: “You didn’t say a word. Why?”

Loki finally steps forward, coming side by side with his brother. “I thought that letting Thor speak to his pets could get me what I want more easily” he replies, a slow smirk spreading on his lips. Thor glances at him in silent warning, but the Captain doesn’t seem particularly bothered by that comment; it actually seems to put him more at ease, like he didn’t know what to do with his silence but veiled insults and jibes are more familiar when Loki’s concerned.

“And what is that? What do you want?”

Loki’s smirk assumes an edge of cruelty but his words are pronounced in a soft, almost sweet tone: “I want to see Thanos screaming with despair, thoroughly defeated, and I want him to know that I am behind it, even just partially. I want him to fall; I want to be there when he does, watching and laughing while he struggles to stand back up. And then, when he has had the time to completely feel his failure… I want to look right into his eyes as I kill him, purging the Universe from his miserable and wretched presence.”

The words are chilling, but the sentiment is clearly a shared one because Steve just nods and says: “Good enough,” then, as he starts to go back towards the table, he feels compelled to add: “We still don’t trust you, just to be clear.”

Loki can’t help rolling his eyes at that, replying: “I believe I caught that the first or tenth time you said it during this conversation, but thank you for clarifying once more.”

Thor has the audacity to laugh, even if that wasn’t strictly meant to be a joke, but the tension in the room breaks just a little bit and Loki is grateful for that. “Thank you, friends,” he says with a bright smile, mainly towards the Captain. “I admit I felt troubled at the prospect of leaving the compound.”

Steve nods but his lips remain a stern line. It looks like he doesn’t even remember how to smile and that sobers Thor up quickly, his burst of energy evaporating in the face of his friend’s misery. “How’s the situation?” he asks, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Steve doesn’t relax but he doesn’t shrug it off, either, so Loki thinks he at least appreciates the silent support.

The situation is dire, indeed: the Midgardian population, once more than seven and a half billions of people, is estimated to now be of about three point two billions.

It wasn’t just the snap that did it but the countless effects it had: things like airplanes crashing, trains derailing and massive car accidents; doctors disappearing during surgery; babies left alone and unable to provide for themselves, covered in dust that used to be their parents.

Loki is not completely unsympathetic thinking about all of that destruction. Not long ago, his people – and it still feels uncomfortable to call them that, even in his own mind, like he’s again claiming something that it never was really his – have suffered the same plight and sadly, the few survivors are probably even fewer, now. Disappearances _at random_ work like that: no one is spared by default, not even the ones that have already bore the brunt of Thanos’ “mercy”.

They all keep glancing at him, minus the rodent – now that he’s closer, Loki is pretty sure that it’s a raccoon – and his brother, of course. He doesn’t know what they expect to see: a satisfied smirk? A glint of savage delight in his eyes? Some cruel remark about their insignificant, fragile lives? Whatever it is, they’re going to be disappointed.

 “We tried to reach out to whoever we could think of. Fury, agent Hill, Sharon Carter, even Coulson… No one answered.” Even the imperturbable Widow sounds pretty concerned about that. “Clint is MIA, too. We’ve had monthly updates on a secure line to keep him in the loop and in case of emergencies. I tried to contact him twice a day since the battle in Wakanda one week ago. No answers.”

The more information the Widow or the Colonel provide, the more Thor’s expression grows stormy. His shoulders are hunched and there is a fine tremor going through him. For a second, Loki is seriously convinced he can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance.

He’s torn inside between the newfound instinct to offer support in the face of his brother’s misery and the certainty he’ll have the others’ eyes observing his every move; they’ll see that there’s something there, something they will find offensive, depraved, wicked and devious, something they can’t understand. And how could they? How could they begin to grasp the concept of a bond carefully crafted in one thousand and five hundred years spent almost entirely in each other’s company when they have just barely started to live, when they’ll be very lucky to even reach one hundred? It’s unconceivable.

In the end, it’s Thor that makes the decision for him: it only takes one look from him for Loki to discard all his reasons and offer comfort, placing a hand delicately on his shoulder and squeezing lightly at intervals, trying to ground him. He looks immediately away, not breaking the physical contact but trying to appear nonchalant, as if this is perfectly normal behavior and the last time he touched his brother – that morning not included – wasn’t almost a hundred years ago. He can’t erase from his mind the deep pain and guilt he’s seen just now in Thor’s eyes and he resolves to have a conversation about it, later. He knows first-hand how those feelings can fester and poison a person and he’ll sooner battle Thanos at full strength alone and weaponless than have that happen to his sunny, optimistic brother.

The mortals take this new development extremely well, with only a slight pause in their report. The daring and just slightly murderous look he fixed upon them might have something to do with it but the end result is still achieved so he’s not complaining.

“…and we still don’t know where Tony is,” the Captain finishes up, with an anxious note in his voice. “We don’t even know if he’s still…” He stops, then, clenching his fists. He can’t even say it out loud.

Despite everything, Loki has actually paid attention during the briefing. “I have a suggestion” he announces.

The Captain and Widow’s reactions are guarded at best, while Thor looks hopefully at him. The raccoon is curiously on his brother’s other side and he looks inexplicably jittery, searching for something that’s clearly not where it’s supposed to be.

“You said that Stark has disappeared after boarding a space craft, correct?”

“Yes,” Banner replies. He has a concerned expression on his face, partially covered by his hands. “He was going after the Time Stone, trying to keep it safe.”

“Well, if the ship was to deliver that to Thanos, it stands to reason that it would take it to his home planet, Titan. It’s abandoned now, he’s the only inhabitant. I… know the coordinates.”

Thor beams at him, a newfound enthusiasm in his voice. “We can use Stormbreaker! As long as I know the exact corner of the galaxy the planet is in, we can reach it.”

“Wait a second,” Steve interrupts, suspicious. “How do you know that?”

Loki shrugs, a bitter smile curving his lips. “When you’re running from something, Captain, you learn to listen carefully to which places you should absolutely avoid.”

“And what if Thanos is there right now?”

Loki sighs. “He won’t be. He’s weak after using the Gauntlet and that’s destroyed. At the state of things, he’s more vulnerable than ever. While finding him should be our priority, I know how ridiculously attached to the concept of companionship you are,” and here Loki might be just a tiny bit hypocritical; the memory of putting himself directly into the line of fire just to save the man standing by his side still fresh in his mind, “so, whether dead or alive, that’s a good place to start in the search of Stark.”

“The only place, really,” Bruce shrugs, but he seems to be a little bit more optimistic after hearing his reasoning.

The Captain, of course, doesn’t look convinced. “How do we know Titan is actually Thanos’ home and not just a trick?”

Loki bristles at the accusation and a shadow passes over Thor’s face, too, but before either of them can start another discussion, the raccoon answers: “He’s telling the truth. I didn’t remember until I’ve heard that name again, but Gamora once told us that she grew up on Titan with his sister.”

At that, Steve relents. He’s clearly not sure about this, but they don’t have any other leads and it’s already been a week since Stark went missing. If he has managed to survive that long, he doesn’t have much time left.

“All right, we’ll go. Thor, how many people can you take with you?”

Thor shrugs at that, a frown on his face. “I haven’t really tested it, Steven. If Stormbreaker works like the Bifrost did, I can take all of us, in theory.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. Someone should stay here, just in case.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce says, then. “Tony will need medical attention. There’s an infirmary here, it’s not really my area, but I have some experience. I’ll see what I can do.”

Steve nods, then he says: “I’ll stay, too. Me and Tony, as you all know, have some issues we need to resolve, but… I won’t force him to,” he seems to struggle for a moment to let the words out. “Deal with that, with me, right now. We need to talk, but not like this.”

The Widow and the Colonel decide to stay, too, so that leaves Thor, himself – he’s not particularly interested in rescuing Tony Stark but he’s also not willing to leave Thor’s side anytime soon – and the raccoon, who apparently has some companions of his own that might or might not be on Titan.

“It’s my best bet, too,” he says, picking up his weapon. “Thanos took the Stone from Knowhere, they surely followed him on Titan to fight him. They’re morons.” There’s a fondness in his tone that takes every bit of sting out of the insult.

“I’m sure it was a mighty battle, Rabbit,” Thor tells him, with a smile. “I’ll take Stormbreaker and then we’ll go outside to depart. Prepare yourselves.”

Loki joins his brother in his room, not really needing anything but not inclined to remain alone in the others’ company. They’re still pretty hostile.

“That went well,” he says brightly, the moment they are safely behind the door. “Better than I anticipated, anyway.”

He has not yet finished speaking that Thor turns and kisses him, with an ardor Loki wasn’t really expecting. It’s not very long but the intensity leaves him gasping, when his brother releases him.

“Thor…?”

“You doubted me,” Thor says, and there’s a note of hurt in his voice. “When Steve wanted you gone. You didn’t think I would object.”

Loki blinks, stunned. It seems to have happened so long ago, he wasn’t really thinking about it anymore. That’s not all of it, though: he hadn’t realized just how transparent he has become to his brother and that terrifies him. For as long as he can remember, he was always skillful at erecting barriers around himself with his words, his actions, his illusions. The realization that Thor has somehow learned to see through them, to see _him_ makes him feel vulnerable in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He tries to smile, tries to hide again, to regain his footing. He’s sure he just manages a wince, though. “You’re getting too good at this. I shall find new ways to deceive you or I won’t be the God of lies anymore.” And taking that away, what would really be left?

“Don’t,” Thor replies softly, a hand on his chest, just above his heart. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Loki. I only catch glimpses of you, but I want to see you.”

Loki frowns and lowers his eyes, not able to keep looking at the earnest expression on his brother’s face. “You won’t like what you see, brother,” he murmurs. They have a lot to discuss but he’s not sure his brother would stick around if confronted with the jagged, cutting pieces of his soul; the venom residing there purged only slightly by the few years they spent apart. There’s still anger, guilt, self-hatred, remorse, resentment. And in a distant corner, spreading so-very-slowly, there’s love, too. It’s mayhem in his purest form, a confused mass of feelings too intertwined to ever be completely separated from one another. It’s fitting for the God of chaos, he supposes.

“Try me,” is all Thor says, and Loki wants to run as far as possible and he also wants to do it, to test his brother right here, right now.

What he does is turning his back on Thor and waving a hand towards his weapon, propped up against the wall. “We don’t have time for this. Titan awaits us.”

There’s a sigh behind him, then Thor’s voice: “I know. But this conversation is not over.”

Loki has no doubt about it.

They go back to the main area in silence, collecting the raccoon – “Yes, Thor, I’m fairly certain it’s not a rabbit” – and heading outside. All the remaining Avengers minus Banner are there to see them off.

After passing along the coordinates, Thor closes his eyes and takes a minute to focus. He must see whatever he had to see, because he re-opens them with renewed determination.

“I’m ready,” he says and it must be some sort of signal because the raccoon climbs him with ease, like he’s some sort of tree, and settles on his shoulder. He reaches a paw towards the handle of Stormbreaker, almost with reverence. His brother gently bring it closer to let him grasp it, a pitying but understanding look on his face.

They look back towards the small gathering for the last time. “Take him back to us, Thor,” Steve says and his brother answers with a grave nod.

Loki has noticed that they stopped even considering the possibility that Stark might be dead, that they might find a rotting body or nothing at all. They have to keep believing that their friend is alright after losing so much in so little time.

Not particularly invested in Stark’s well-being, but knowing how bad news could further upset his brother, Loki takes a second to pray the Norns for this small victory. They could really use a win.

That’s Loki’s last thought before Thor activates Stormbreaker, then a familiar swirl of colored light accompanied by a strong pulling sensation is all he is aware of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Thoughts?  
> I know, there's not much plot happening, I'm sorry. They all just started arguing and it got pretty long: please, let me know if it was boring and you would like me to try and cut it out a bit. I'm more of a "lots of dialogue and introspection and less action" kind of writer, but I can try to tone it down if it feels excessive.  
> I'm possibly even more nervous than last time. I never moved all those characters before - and I mean both in number and regarding these specific characters. If you could also leave me a couple of words to let me know if something didn't convince you and why, I'd really appreciate it. I love these characters and I want to do them justice but I need your help for that.
> 
> NEXT TIME: Lots of Tony Stark Angst and Rocket Angst; Nebula joins the team; one person from the ones the Avengers have contacted and didn't answer arrives at the compound!
> 
> See you soon! xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three months later, at last, the second chapter! I know, I know, in my defence: 1) I started studying for my summer exams in June and I actually finished said exams on the 27th of July so, before that day, I was always too tired to make myself write and 2) I hated everything in this chapter, it just didn't flow how I wanted. It was incredibly frustrating. I re-read it just once before publishing, I hope there aren't too many mistakes! And hopefully you'll enjoy it more than I did while writing it...  
> I'm not adding any warnings but I feel like I should tell you that Tony has a pretty dark attitude here. He's not outright suicidal, but he doesn't fear death as much as he should.  
> Well, that said, have fun!

The first thing Tony remembers, after the Moment that he’s steadfastly and stubbornly ignoring, is blue skin and metal, pitch black eyes not exactly concerned and some strange concoction that it apparently is the alien equivalent of soup.

“Eat,” she says, plain and concise. In normal circumstances, Tony wouldn’t accept alien food without a second thought but, in this moment, the idea of poisoned soup doesn’t sound so bad. He doesn’t care much about dying, not anymore; besides, he’s pretty sure that she could just strangle him or crush him to death or something else equally gruesome, if she really wanted to. Hell, he wouldn’t even activate the suit.

After the fourth or fifth sip without agonizing pain in his gut, he decides that she’s not a threat, for now, and asks her name. They didn’t really have time to introduce themselves since she suddenly arrived during their fight against Thanos to hit him with a ship. “It was a pretty badass moment,” he tells her.

He learns that her name is Nebula and that she’s Thanos’ daughter. She doesn’t appreciate humor and threatens to mutilate him about six minutes into the conversation. It’s not a personal record: he had a girl make similar threats in his junior year, after about three minutes. He’s either getting better at it or losing his touch.

Later, he also learns that he’s lost two hours, right after the Moment. It’s not something new, he’s lost time before: first, after ingesting outrageous amounts of alcohol and then, after a particularly bad panic attack. He could have been spared the second ones, honestly. So, really, it’s not _that_ worrisome that he spent two hours being virtually unaware of his surroundings and pretty much unresponsive. It also explains how he arrived on the pile of junk that had to be a spaceship in its better times. Nebula apparently had to drag him a little, but he walked by himself, so hey, not so bad.

She informs him that he was mumbling the whole time and the only thing she got clearly was: “May is going to kill me”. That’s just the _slightest_ bit upsetting, so he immediately changes the subject, without offering further explanation. She seems to understand and doesn’t pry. Tony might actually start to like her.

He also feels compelled to ask why she seems to want to help him. It’s a fair question but she gets kind of mad about it, frowning and not really going beyond: “You could be useful”. It’s not much and it could mean a variety of things, not all of them pleasant. He’s not eager to become bait for daddy dearest.

After he finishes his soup, she throws him some rags to use as pillow and blanket, then tells him to lie down and sleep, because he’ll need his strength. “Not ominous at all”, he replies. After that, she disappears, leaving him alone. He tries to sleep, he really does. He’s used to ignoring it, but he _does_ feel exhausted.

It would have been good to rest for a couple of hours, except that his subconscious is not apparently as eager to brush aside the Moment as his conscious mind is, and the second he closes his eyes, he can hear the voice of a seventeen-year-old kid asking for help, begging him to do something. He can feel him slip away from his very arms; can see the tears in his eyes.

Tony wakes up with a yell stuck in his throat, drenched in sweat. Outside, the sky is orange, like it has always been since they’ve arrived here, so there’s no way to know how much time he actually slept. It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because he doesn’t feel rested at all. There are tears on his cheeks, he notices, rubbing a hand down his face.

He finds Nebula just outside the ship, sat on a pile of rocks. She takes a look at him, tells him it’s been about two hours, then passes him a toolbox. “We have to get off this planet,” she says, “and you can fix the ship.”

It’s a ridiculous notion, since he only ever saw one spaceship in his life before the last twenty four hours, and that time it was only for a couple of seconds, just enough to take aim and send a missile on it. He’s also very stubborn, created a new element from scratch and figured out in about thirty seconds what needed to be done to land almost safely on Titan, so he takes the toolbox without arguing and gets to work.

In about one day and a half – by his estimation, since there’s no real night on this planet – he realizes that the ship is beyond repair, just scraps of metal. There’s no way he’ll be able to fix it, he’s not even sure someone who fixed spaceships for a living could get the damn thing in the air again.

He waits for Nebula to return, since she’s decided to explore the planet while he fiddles around with the various contraptions the ship is made of, so he can tell her that he is of no use to her anymore and she can stop bringing him food or forcing him to rest like some bizarre kind of alien mother or alien Pepper. That leads him to think that there’s not anyone else left to do it, anyway, since the real Pepper is probably gone, too, and that’s a really disturbing thought so he banishes it, along with the thousand thoughts he had during the hours since the Moment.

When Tony tells Nebula about the ship, she doesn’t seem really surprised. She just stares at him for a minute, then she says: “I’m sure there’s something you can fix. Start there,” and that’s the moment Tony realizes that she’s keeping him busy, shifting his focus on something he’s good at, something he can actually do, considering the situation. His mind suddenly flashes at thirty or so suits, none of them exactly the same, most of them pretty useless except for the need to have something to tinker with, to keep the aliens and space and utterly paralyzing _fear_ at bay.

He’s so irritated he feels he might snap at her and also so immensely grateful that he’s left speechless. In the end, he just nods and starts working on the radio, which astonishingly seems to be the less damaged piece. It can also play cassettes, which makes him want to start laughing. He doesn’t because he’s sure there would be at least an edge of hysteria to it.

On the third of what Tony appointed to be night, he finally asks what Thanos did, exactly. He has an idea but the actual answer leaves him full of dread, like it happened only once before. He wonders all “night” who, if any, of the Avengers is still alive; who is gone; what Earth looks like with half of the population gone. He wonders if Bruce is safe, if the Hulk eventually came out to fight; if Thanos killed any of them even before breaking the Universe, when he came for Vision’s stone. He wonders if Happy is safe, if Rhodey is safe, if _Harley_ is safe.

When he falls asleep, too worn out to force his eyes to stay open anymore, he dreams of the vision Wanda forced in his brain, all that time ago. He sees his friends, dead at his feet; he’s the only one standing. He sees their battered bodies, their broken weapons and their blood, spilled on cold stone.

This time, other than the original team, there’s Wanda, with empty eye sockets and burned hands; Vision, a hole in his head, circuits exposed to Tony’s eyes; Sam, a broken wing piercing his chest; Rhodey’s suit, crumpled on itself, missing the faceplate so he can see that his friend was still inside; Strange, with his cloak strangling him. There’s even Barnes, no metal arm, his neck bent at an unnatural angle and his right arm reaching towards Steve’s body. And then Quill, Drax, Nebula, Pepper, Happy…

At some point, he feels a voice from behind himself and he turns to find Peter, eyes full of tears, begging him to save him. He tries to reach him, but he’s still too far away and then, the kid is suddenly angry and starts blaming him, says it’s his fault that it ended like that, he’s the reason they’re all dead. He starts crumbling to dust again, and Tony can’t stop it this time, either; he can only yell that he’s sorry.

Behind him, the others have risen, too, like an army of zombies searching for vengeance, and they all ask him: why didn’t he do more? Why couldn’t he save them? Why was he so weak and useless and just not enough?

They get closer, so close Tony can almost feel their hands on him, craves the pain he’s sure they’re about to inflict upon him, but at the last moment, they just disintegrate, all of them. “It’s random,” Nebula whispers, a smirk on her lips. He’s not sure he ever saw her before with an expression different from a frown. “No one is guaranteed to be safe”. She becomes dust, too.

At the end of it all, Strange is the only one left. He puts a crumbling hand on his shoulder and tells him, with a mournful expression on his face: “It was the only way.”

He startles awake so badly that he falls off the bench he’s been using as a makeshift bed. Nebula is in the room, this time around. “You were yelling more than usual,” she says, as an explanation, “I came to wake you up, but you were already falling.”

Tony rubs at his burning eyes, then replies: “It feels like I still am.”

The following day, they put music on. There’s only three cassettes on the ship, all 80’s music, but it’s good enough. It keeps the quite at bay. Nebula has found a sword with a blade split at the very top. She keeps fiddling with it, all the while staring at it. She didn’t go to explore today; maybe she decided there’s nothing of interest out there.

When they eat, that night, he asks about the sword. “It was my sister’s,” she replies. It’s said in a neutral tone, too neutral. He’s heard that tone once before: Thor, visiting to catch them up on the London battle about a month after it happened, and informing them – among a lot of other things – that Loki was dead.

He wants to ask about her, maybe offer Nebula to talk. That’s what they did with Thor, eventually, let him remember his brother and work through the loss. But Thor had a month and Jane to start with that process; besides, Nebula seems a lot more like him than like Thor, so she’ll ignore that pain until it either becomes manageable or she explodes from the grief. Tony thinks he knows what the most likely outcome is. He keeps quite.

Roughly on the sixth night, their food is running low. The ship’s supplies weren’t much to begin with and Nebula tells him about a rationing plan, while Tony firstly contemplates how much it’s going to hurt, death by starvation, and then reflects upon the possibility to have the nanites add a storage unit in Iron Man’s suit or maybe to directly produce food.

Nebula starts exploring again, reaching further each passing day, hoping to find some improbable source of nourishment. He knows it’s desperation that moves her, the planet well and truly dead for a while, but he doesn’t stop her anyway. She needs to feel like she’s doing something and he can appreciate that. They’re good at ignoring the other’s issues, silently letting each other have space to work through them on their own terms, or just not work through them at all. It works great, so they keep going like that.

It’s on a morning or early afternoon, on the tenth day, that Tony raises his eyes from his latest project to see a flash of multicolored light, far away on the horizon. He’s learned enough about the Bifrost to recognize it and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his heart, only to be unceremoniously transferred upon his stomach. Thor is alive and he came for him. He can go back to Earth and assess for himself the damage that the planet has suffered because of him.

“Hey, Smurfette!” he yells, while making his way inside the ship where she is supposed to be showering – the bathroom, thank God, was the second thing Tony was able to fix.

“Stark, I thought I was clear when I said that just because I haven’t murdered you yet…” she replies, a deadly glint in her eyes. He explained to her what a Smurf was, at some point. Her sister’s sword in her hands, which she was sharpening, completes the picture of impending doom, but Tony’s too psyched up to worry about it.

“…doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind any minute, yeah,” he dismisses her with a wave of his hand, then asks: “Does this piece of crap have a blaring siren, or something? Maybe it projects light in the sky? Anything? Come on, you know it better than I do.”

Nebula seems confused; maybe she thinks he finally snapped ad gone mad. He may have, to be perfectly honest.

“My ride is here,” he explains, what could be an almost genuine smile – or it could be a grimace, he’s not entirely sure – on his lips. “I don’t know about you, but I was ready to leave this place yesterday. Come on, find something that can signal our position.”

Together, they figure out that there is indeed a broken piece that was supposed to be some sort of position indicator, a combination of a high-pitched sound and an intermitting flash of bright light. It’s not as powerful as Tony would like but, with a few quick changes, it becomes exactly what they need.

Nebula is visibly irritated by the noise but she doesn’t speak, knowing it’s a necessity. At this point, whatever can help them escape is considered a blessing.

_Come on, Thor,_ he prays silently, with his hands covering his ears and his eyes fixed on the horizon, waiting for a familiar, flying demigod to finally take him back to his own planet, a strange mix of delight and trepidation constricting his throat.

xxxxx

The first thing they notice on Titan it’s the unnatural orange tint that somehow seems to engulf the planet itself, down to its very atmosphere. It may be soothing if it didn’t look so still, like everything is suspended in an uncomfortable middle ground, an eternal sunset never leaving place for the soothing deep blue of the night.

The second thing is the quite. It’s unnerving, not even a wisp of wind to disturb it. For some reason, Loki thinks of that expedition on Jotunheim years ago, the planet silent and dark around their little group, except it’s not even close to that: there’s no creature lurking in the shadows, keeping an eye on the unexpected visitors; no alien or animal or even plant to somehow break the utter stillness. There’s absolutely no life left in this place.

“Okay, this is creepy” the raccoon says, loading his weapon for an enemy that’s not there. “Let’s go find the others and get the Hell away from here.”

The sentiment is a shared one but a problem makes itself evident pretty fast: they have absolutely no idea which way to go from here.

“What do you mean, you can’t do a locating spell?” Thor asks, a confused and slightly betrayed expression on his face, like Loki is _supposed_ to have an enchantment to fix whatever need he has. Loki has the sudden urge to stab him but these days he’s trying to work through these impulses without acting on them, so he just sighs very loudly and rolls his eyes.

“ _Why,_ pray tell, would I have needed to perform a locating spell on Asgard, when we had _Heimdall,_ who could see _all_ , there?” Loki asks and if the tone is kind of scathing, well, at least it’s not a dagger in the side, right?

Thor, despite a fair share of people thinking so, is not actually stupid and he sheepishly shrugs at his reasoning, then answers: “I just assumed that you decided to learn, at some point, to not...”

He seems to struggle for a second on how to say it, so Loki decides to finish it for him: “… _rely_ on him? Believe it or not, I never really had much need to find people. On the other hand, I often needed not to be found by people, hence why I focused my personal studies in magic on improving my stealth.”

“As much as all of this is interesting,” Rocket says, before Thor has the opportunity to answer him, “are you saying that we have to search a whole _planet_?!”

“Not exactly, Rabbit,” Thor answers. It seems it has become a nickname because by now even Loki knows the raccoon’s actual name. His brother always had a penchant for those and they tended to stuck, too: it was him that jokingly started to call Fandral “the Dashing” and Loki still remembers he was the first to ever call him Trickster, with the fondest note of pretended irritation in his voice. It’s a shame that particular nickname was twisted into something ugly by the rest of their people over the centuries.

“See, when we travelled from Nidavellir to Earth, I focused both on the planet and on the Infinity Stones’ combined energy, which was pretty intense and hard to miss. That’s how Stormbreaker was able to teleport us in the middle of the battle and in the vicinity of _Thanos_ himself.” His brother almost spits the titan’s name, like an ugly curse in a moment of pure rage. “Nidavellir is closer to Earth than Titan, so when we travelled here, I couldn’t feel Stark’s energy clearly enough to focus on it. I just tried to recall what Mjolnir felt like when I was in his company, hoping for a position as precise as possible.”

Loki is fascinated by the explanation, his scholar side eagerly soaking up all the information about his brother’s new weapon. It’s still unsettling to see him without his hammer after he spent more than five hundred years with it, and he’s sure that it must be even more so for Thor himself, but apparently the Dwarfs’ axe is as formidable as Mjolnir was and also, it seems, as sentient.

If they want to go back in a reasonable amount of time, they’d better start moving in some direction, hoping for the best. It’s irritating for him to proceed this way but it’s not like they have many options, at the moment. Loki is just about to tell his brother, when a strange flash of light catches his eye. It’s nothing more than a little, bright dot and it’s so far away that he almost misses it.

He focuses on the point, not entirely sure if it’s worth mentioning since it could be just about anything, including his eyes playing tricks on him. A few moments after, though, it happens again; then again, another couple of seconds later.

“Thor?” he says, pointing to the spot where the light keeps appearing. “May I suggest we head in that direction?”

Both his brother and the raccoon turn their attention there and, sure enough, the speck of light appears again. It’s, disconcertingly, a bright green color.

Thor seems as baffled as Loki, but to Rocket that obviously means something positive because he’s suddenly overjoyed, what he supposes is meant to be a beaming smile on his muzzle: “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about! That’s my ship, you guys! I can’t believe that they managed to strengthen the light _that_ much… Not that it’s difficult for someone who knows what he’s doing, like me, you see…”

It seems like the raccoon would keep going, but Thor puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him and making him turn to look at him. “Rabbit,” he says, a small smile on his lips betraying the excitement he’s feeling. “Why don’t we take Stormbreaker and go save our friends?”

Rocket nods, reclaiming his spot on Thor’s shoulder with a fluid motion and already reaching out for the weapon’s handle. Loki moves close, allowing his brother to put an arm around his chest and holding on to Thor’s waist himself. He often begrudged the necessity to rely that much on Thor to be taken flying with Mjolnir, burning jealousy always mixing with the exhilaration of it all. Now, he’s only too glad for the closeness, showing once again just how much his relationship with Thor has evolved.

It’s every bit as thrilling as he remembers: the feeling of rushing across the sky at breakneck speed, hair swept by a current of air so strong as to make breathing itself kind of difficult; a swirl of colors pretty much unrecognizable – though orange is preponderant, on this planet – where the land should be; a pulling sensation in the background from Stormbreaker, guiding them through it all and, of course, his brother’s warmth; his breathing that Loki can actually feel from where he’s pressed against his chest; the undeniable feeling of safety that it has always inspired in Loki, even when he resented himself for it.

At some point during the flight, he starts to hear a faint, whistling noise and that must mean they’re close because Rocket suddenly cheers from his perch on Thor’s shoulder and his brother starts to slow down, until Loki can finally recognize the shapes around him again. He sees a spaceship wreckage that’s miraculously emitting the signal they’ve seen, a blue woman he instantly feels like he has seen before and, a little worse for wear but definitely alive, Tony Stark.

Thor is so relieved to see him that he basically rushes the last thirty feet, landing a bit more roughly than usual. Loki doesn’t complain, though, because his brother basically launches himself at Stark the minute he’s on the ground and the other man answers the tackle hug with a powerful squeeze of his own. It lasts just a couple of seconds but it’s pretty obvious that the two men are happy to see each other.

“Stark,” Thor says, looking him up and down. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a week and we weren’t sure…”

“A week? Damn, my calculations weren’t precise. I thought today was day ten. I like the haircut, by the way, a great improvement.” He winks at Thor, a sincere grin on his lips but so obviously exhausted that it seems out of place on his worn out face. There are deep, dark circles under his eyes and even his shoulders are slouched, like there’s a burden on them that can’t be lifted.

Thor must notice because he opens his mouth to say something, but Stark just keeps going, moving his eyes towards Loki. “I also have a question,” he points at him. “Shouldn’t he be dead? We haven’t seen each other in a while, but I’m pretty sure last time you said he was dead.” His tone is forcibly light but the distrust is evident. Strangely, he doesn’t seem to be calling for his armor at all, like he doesn’t much care either way about Thor’s answer.

“It’s a long, complicated story. Briefly, he has no ill intent towards Earth or the Avengers anymore, he’s actually the one who informed the ones remaining at the compound that Titan is Thanos’ birth planet,” Thor replies.

Though still with a skeptical expression, Stark says: “Well, I guess I won’t throw you out of a window the first chance I get, as compensation for last time.”

Loki smirks and says: “You are welcome to try,” and Thor seems a little bit alarmed, but Stark just chuckles. It’s a weak sound. He takes a long breath, apparently steeling himself, then asks: “Who’s at the compound?”

Thor’s expression is slightly pinched, like just the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he answers: “Natasha, Steve, Banner and Colonel Rhodes.”

Loki can see it in Stark’s eyes, the unspoken question: _that’s it? Of all the Avengers, those are the only ones who weren’t taken away?_ The man is unable to speak, though, so he just keeps looking at Thor like he spoke a different, incomprehensible language.

He doesn’t even get a chance to recover and finally answer because Rocket suddenly screams: “What do you mean, they’re gone?! It’s not possible! Not all of them! It’s… I…” The raccoon suddenly raises his gun and shoots several times at the remains of the spaceship, destroying it a little bit more. The blue woman, who’s obviously given him the news, just watches impassively, a frown on her face.

“I don’t need that anymore, do I? They’re all gone. _All_ of them,” he keeps screaming and then, suddenly, he quiets down and turns towards Thor, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Loki prepares to conjure his knives should they be needed. “Remember when I said I had a lot to lose? Remember that? Well, I lost it. I lost all of it, but _you_ have your brother back! How is that fair, uh?”

He moves towards them, eyes fixed on Thor, spitting venom at him and with his gun still in hand: “We answered _your_ call for help! We came for you, to help you! All of this is your fault! You should have… _I_ should have…”

His brother, strangely enough, doesn’t react. He doesn’t try to defend himself, he doesn’t call Stormbreaker from where he left it when they landed, he doesn’t even look slightly irritated. He has a regretful expression on his face and, when he speaks, it’s in a soft voice.

“Rabbit…” he says, but he’s interrupted again by the enraged rodent. “MY NAME IS ROCKET!” he yells, still louder than before and, for some reason, that makes Thor lowers his eyes, whispering: “I’m sorry.”

Loki is puzzled by this behavior: he _knows_ that his brother is plenty capable of shooting back as much venom as is spitted at him, that he has made bigger and scarier people than an oversized mouse with a gun apologize for daring to disrespect him; he _knows_ that he can’t stand false accusations. So he’s either sorry for the raccoon’s loss, so sorry that he doesn’t want to defend himself in the face of his grief or he thinks that the animal is right, that he is somehow to blame for what _Thanos_ did.

“Thor,” he says, no longer able to stay quiet in the face of his brother’s quite defeat. “Would you do me the favor to tell this rat to stop this ridiculous nonsense and maybe do some soul-searching? Because, and please correct me if I’m wrong, I’m pretty sure _nobody_ forced you to leave your comrades to follow Thor, am I wrong?”

The raccoon looks just about murderous and his attention – everyone’s attention, really – is on him, so Loki goes for the killer blow, what will definitely begin the fight that the rat is itching for. He can already see the gun directed at him, his knives in hand and Thor and maybe Stark trying to break it up before anyone gets injured. He can feel the sentence on his tongue, can already hear his own voice smoothly say it: _so, aren’t you just blaming someone else to not blame who you know is actually responsible?_ He has always known how to strike right where it hurts the most.

He’s just about to say it, but the blue woman suddenly seems to realize something. “I know you,” she says, something akin to wonder in her voice. “You are Thanos’ Asgardian.” Loki suddenly feels frozen, a roar in his ears, his heart beating furiously in his chest. He feels his legs threatening to give out.

Both Thor and Stark sharply turn towards her. “What?” Thor asks, bewildered, while Stark asks: “You two know each other?” Even the raccoon seems to have somehow deflated, the explosive rage now just a simmering anger.

“He was a prisoner,” she says, and Loki wants to stop her by any means necessary; wants to throw a knife at her or turn her into a bird or even make her straight up disappear. His body betrays him in the most important moment because he can’t do any of that, he can’t _move_ or speak, just watch as what neither Thor nor anyone else should have ever know comes to light, at last.

“I was there the day Thanos found him. I didn’t recognize him immediately because he was so much younger, but I remember his voice. He was spitting poison at Thanos with that same cutting tone. He didn’t know what was in store for him, back there,” her eyes meet his and Loki can’t even shake his head, he just keeps staring at her, remembering: she was more a Luphomoid than a machine, back then, and she looked at him dispassionately while her father explained to her who he was and where he was found. He looked back in defiance, maybe even told her something distasteful.

“Almost one year later, I saw him again for the last time. He was blue, then, but Thanos insisted on calling him Asgardian. He was half-insane and begging, while Thanos messed inside his head, twisting and…” A sudden roar of thunder interrupts her. The sky has darkened above their heads and Loki is finally able to move again for the first time since this dreadful tale started, turning towards his brother, who has electricity crackling all over his body. He’s sure that his real eye is not far away from becoming pure light, either.

Loki is in awe of this raw power, like every single time he has seen it from the moment it manifested itself on Sakaar, but he knows he has to stop it before it reaches dangerous levels and necessarily needs an outlet, so he snaps: “Thor! Control yourself!”

His brother looks at him, an absolutely _livid_ expression on his face. He doesn’t calm down, basically growls Loki’s name, so he takes a couple of step forward and looks straight into his eyes. “Thanos is not here,” he says, as calmly as possible even with the sickening dread that is constricting his throat. “Destroying this place with lighting won’t benefit anyone. Let’s go back to Earth, take Stark to safety.”

Thor just keeps looking at him for a few moments, then he forcibly lets go of the anger. He can see him breathe deeply once, twice, his shoulders relaxing and the sparks disappearing. He still has a troubled expression on his face, but at least he’s not on the verge of exploding anymore.

“Why?” he asks, his voice hoarse like reining back the lightning has somehow made his throat sore. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He has a helpless expression on his face and it hurts Loki more than he would have thought possible.

“Not now,” he whispers, close enough to his brother to hopefully not be heard by the others, “Not here.”

Thor nods and it’s a weary gesture, then he calls Stormbreaker to his hand and he turns back to the silent group behind him. “We should head back. Our friends will start to worry.” Rocket snorts cruelly at the word _friends_ but he doesn’t say anything.

Stark, who’s been suspiciously quiet up until now – and Loki remembers him in particular for being quick-witted – claps his hands once and says: “Well, those were five intense minutes, but I’m game with the plan of going back.” Then he gestures at the blue woman and continues: “By the way, I forgot the official introductions: this is Nebula, she’s a daughter of Thanos and she also took a spaceship with the intention of running over him, so she’s coming with us.” Turning towards her, he finishes: “Nebs, this is Thor, the God of Thunder; the one you know but don’t really know is Loki, Thor’s brother. Everybody good to go?”

Thor nods again, but doesn’t answer. The tension is palpable in the air, so no one speaks anymore; they all just go near Thor, ready to leave this hellish place.

Stark puts a hand on Thor’s shoulder and Nebula, reluctantly, puts one on Stark’s own. Thor keeps his eyes on his brother, but Loki doesn’t look at him. He feels like he’s been scrubbed raw and they’re not even halfway through the day. He dreads the conversation that they will have to have, once they’re alone.

Rocket is the last one to approach, evidently still having some misguided issues towards Thor. Loki is sure that the raccoon, deep down, is actually blaming himself. It’s not his fault, of course; none of them could have done more than they have but, judging by his brother’s reaction in the face of the raccoon’s accusations, Loki is the only one to think so.

Tellingly, Rocket doesn’t climb Thor to perch comfortably on his shoulders, instead he only grabs at his brother’s trousers. A moment later, Stormbreaker activates, taking them away.

xxxxx

The first thing Loki is aware of, upon their return to the Compound, is a voice yelling: “What _the Hell_ is going on?!”

Then – before his eyes have had the time to fully focus on the group of people waiting for them – he feels a sharp, piercing pain in his side that makes him hiss. Looking down, he can clearly see the end of an arrow protruding from just above his left hip.

Even before raising his eyes, he knows who has shot him, so he’s not at all surprised to see Clint Barton glaring hatefully at him, the Widow ineffectively trying to make him lower his bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A couple" of notes on this chapter:  
> \- The continuing saga of me headcanon-ing how Stormbreaker works - also, I have no idea how far Nidavellir or Titan are from Earth, it just made more sense for me to put Nidavellir closer;  
> \- There's a story behind the light + piercing sound thing that I added to the Guardians' ship. I wanted to include it in this chapter but I couldn't, we'll see if I can use some more Rocket angst to tell it later on;  
> \- Speaking of Rocket, Loki is right: he's lashing out because he blames himself for not being there when his friends disappeared. He suddenly stops raging when Nebula changes the topic mostly because he recognizes what Loki said is right, even if he's still pissed off. If Loki had said that additional bit out loud, they would have probably started fighting. I hope it doesn't seem too OOC;  
> \- I have absolutely and completely embraced the headcanon "Thanos has tortured Loki to half insanity and that's the main reason the first Avengers happened". More on that topic in the next chapter. Also, Thanos is perfectly aware that Loki is a Jotun, he calls him Asgardian just to mock him;  
> \- Tony is very quiet during those two confrontantions because in the first one, he's still trying to process the fact that there are only four Avengers left, besides himself and Thor, he can't even think about defending Thor himself and in the second one, the situation is pretty much resolved immediately by Loki, or else he would have tried to help. That was also the first time he saw Thor's "new" powers, he might have been a little shocked for a second;  
> \- Finally, Clint is here, woo-hoo! I didn't cut you out, buddy.
> 
> As always, if you'd leave me a comment, it would be incredibly appreciated. I love each and every bit of feedback - I actually managed to finish this chapter by re-reading all of the comments to the previous one! They're precious to me.
> 
> See you all soon, I hope! xxx


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